


Apple Tree Duty

by HipHopAnonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, First Time, In the Beginning, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Potentially Dubious Consent, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Sex Pollen, Slight Voyeurism, Well Sex Apple, well it could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 16:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous
Summary: "I was technically on apple tree duty . . . " Aziraphale claimed before he was so rudely cut off from what is surely averyinteresting story . . .Here is the story of how Aziraphale was unfortunately (or fortunately?) distracted from "Apple Tree Duty" by a wily serpent on that fateful day in the Garden of Eden. And also how some forbidden fruit brings two hereditary enemies rather close together. Ineffably.





	Apple Tree Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Here I have shamelessly filled my own kinkmeme prompt since nobody was biting and I am absolutely obsessed with Good Omens Garden of Eden apple eating sex.
> 
> Aziraphale's line in the last episode about how he was technically on apple tree duty haunts me, so I had to write SOMETHING.

The angel from the eastern gate was on apple tree duty. Crawly watched him, coiled around a high branch in a nearby sapling. The angels were always lurking about _that_ tree – the Forbidden one. It sure made Crawly’s job difficult. This angel was different than the others, though. While the other Guardians were sturdy, stoic, and serious, this one was, well, a bit _flighty_. Even with the flaming sword.

At first, the short-haired angel had paced around the tree, holding the sword up and peering out into the foliage with narrowed eyes. Before long, however, he seemed to grow bored with that. He sat down at the base of the tree, resting his back against the trunk and giving his white wings a stretch. He tapped the sword against the ground idly. He _yawned_. Maybe he would fall asleep. Did angels sleep? Crawly couldn’t recall.

Either way the angel would still be _there_, and that was a problem, because Eve would surely, _surely_ be on her way soon. Crawly had seen the rebellion in her eyes, recognized when she had finally been convinced by his whispered questions. He needed this angel out of the way or all his work would be for nothing.

Crawly glided from branch to branch in the boughs overhead until he was hanging from the Tree of Knowledge itself. He settled onto the limbs amongst the red fruit, and then purposefully rustled a twig with his tail. A few leaves drifted down and landed on the angel’s fluffy white head.

“Sssso what happens, angel, if one of these apples should go missing?”

The angel leapt up at once, fumbling with the flaming sword. He came dangerously close to dropping it, before he finally got a grip and pointed it up at Crawly. “I knew I sensed s-something evil!”

Now that Crawly could see him up close, he realized this angel was young – well, _new_ would be a more accurate description. Far younger and newer than Crawly, at least, who had been there when the stars were created. He’d _helped_. But that was a lifetime ago and better forgotten. The angel’s overly earnest face and nervous stutter gave his newness away. And his scent. Crawly flicked out his forked tongue and bobbed his head slowly.

“Evil? Why, I’m just a lowly serpent dwelling in the Garden – no different from the other animals.”

“You don’t fool me, trickster! You’re a demon,” the angel said, thrusting his sword towards Crawly. It might have been menacing if it didn’t shake in his trembling hand.

The corners of Crawly’s mouth turned up. “Perhapsss,” he admitted.

“I knew it!” The angel looked so pleased with himself that Crawly would have rolled his eyes if snakes could do that. “Begone with you, then, Demon!”

There was something intriguing about this angel. Sure, he was parroting all the right _words_ but he lacked conviction. And he wasn’t making any move to attack or smite. Did he even know how to use that sword? This angel seemed _softer_ than the others. He was certainly _rounder_, in a bafflingly pleasant sort of way.

“Very well, but first . . . ” Crawly twisted his tail around a particularly plump, red apple, tugging it free at the stem with a quiet pop. “A snack for the road. Looks delicioussss.”

The angel’s eyes widened. “Hey! You can’t _do_ that! Stop it! Stop it at once!”

Crawly arched his body in an imitation of a shrug, “Too late, angel.” He slithered quickly down the tree. “Ssssso long!” And away he went into the grass, tail holding the apple aloft behind him. A taunt. Bait.

The angel stared, mouth open for only a moment before giving chase. _Bait taken._

Crawly coasted like water through the weeds. He slowed periodically to allow the angel, panting and stumbling behind, to keep up. He led them over hills, through valleys, and far, far away from a certain forbidden apple tree.

“Come back here . . . right now . . . you . . . foul fiend!” the angel shouted, quite out of breath.

When Crawly decided they had covered a suitable distance, he shot forward with a burst of speed and zipped up a medium sized oak. After a moment’s consideration, he _transformed_, shifting his body into an almost long since forgotten shape – slender torso, arms, hands, legs, and feet. Wavy red hair spilled over his shoulders. A black robe, shade reminiscent of his scales, draped loosely on his lanky body. Behind him, he opened broad, feathered wings that he remembered used to be white, but were now obsidian. The color reminded him of the darkness of space just before the galaxies exploded into being. His serpent eyes remained yellow and strange.

He sat on a seat-like bough in the tree with his new legs swinging in the air. He wriggled his toes, feeling them out. _Different._ He wasn’t used to this body anymore. But it _was_ easier to hold the apple in his hand, at least. He tossed it in the air and then caught it, delighted.

The angel came crashing through the shrubs, huffing and puffing. He stopped to bend at the waist, one hand on his knee, the other still clutching the flaming sword by his side. Once he’d caught his breath, his eyes scanned the ground, face dismayed. Crawly grinned. He _whistled_. Lips were fantastic.

The angel snapped his head up. He saw Crawly sitting up in the tree and narrowed his eyes in a mix of annoyance and confusion. Crawly smiled broadly and held up the apple.

“It’s me, dummy,” he said, sticking his tongue (still forked, apparently he couldn’t give _that_ part of himself up either) out.

The angel held his sword aloft, trying and failing miserably at menace, “Give that back at once, demon.”

“Nah, I think I’d like to tassste it.”

“Don’t – don’t you dare!”

The angel was panicked. Thoroughly distracted. Crawly just needed to _toy_ with him for a bit longer . . .

“Why not?” he quirked an eyebrow at the apple. “It’s just fruit.”

“It’s _forbidden_,” the angel said the word like it was a curse. He huffed in exasperation.

“Not for _us_,” Crawly had been thinking _me_ but somehow _us_ had come out instead. He supposed they were enough of an _us_ insofar as their differences from the two humans made them similar. “That rule is for _them_.”

The angel looked unsure, furrowing his brow, “W-well, we can’t really know. Best not risk it. There will surely be trouble. Just – just give it back now, _please_!”

_Please?_ No smiting, no strike of lightning, no slash of the sword. The angel still held the sword, flaming like anything, but down by his side as if forgotten. He radiated innocence, and Crawly was quite _sure_ that the angel didn’t really know how to use the weapon. He _almost_ felt guilty.

But he had a job to do. He brought the apple to his mouth and took a bite.

The angel let out a dismayed squawk.

The bright red skin of the fruit was hard, waxy. It _snapped_ when he bit into it. As he chewed, crunching (these teeth were much better for chewing), the sweet juice coated his tongue and he swallowed, pulp and skin following behind down his throat.

He felt the fruit settle in his gut, and from it a prickly warmth bloomed. It spread from his center throughout his body, and he beheld the angel anew with fresh (if still slitted and yellow) eyes. It was like a grainy filter had been lifted, bringing into focus details Crawly hadn’t seen before.

The white gown the angel wore hugged the curves of his body when he moved. Curves that were suddenly decidedly more pleasant than they had seemed moments before. He contemplated the angel’s bare feet as he shifted his weight anxiously, toes curling into the fertile earth. A bead of sweat ran down the side of the angel’s face, and Crawly itched to lick it up.

He licked his lips instead. “Mmmm! It’s ssssweet, Angel. You should really have a bite.” There was a very strange tingling between his legs. He hadn’t even _had_ legs moments before. And he very, very much wanted the angel to . . . what? Eat the apple? He wasn’t entirely certain yet.

“Absolutely not!”

“Very well, then, more for me,” Crawly said, taking another generous bite and feigning nonchalance to hide his disappointment. His eyes flicked up and down the angel’s body again as he chewed. Mouth full, he asked, “What are you called?” He had to know.

The angel pursed his lips. “Not that it’s any concern of yours, demon, but I am the Principality Aziraphale of the Eastern Gate,” he said his title with only just short of _too much_ pride (Crawly knew all too well where _that_ line was drawn.)

“Well, Aziraphale of the Eastern Gate, it doesn’t matter either way now,” he chewed noisily, glancing up at the sun’s position with a grin. “I’m sure the humans have eaten of the tree by now, as well.”

Aziraphale went pale, which was quite a shocking sight considering how fair he already was.

“Pity no one was guarding it,” Crawly said with a hissy snicker.

“Why, you – you – _vile serpent!_” Aziraphale shouted, cheeks puffed out and reddening.

“Run along now and watch the show,” Crawly taunted.

Aziraphale glared for just a moment, and then turned on his heel and ran.

“A pity for your lot at least,” Crawly muttered, sighing. “Sorry, Angel. It’s just business.”

He kept his eyes on Aziraphale’s retreating figure until the angel faded from view. He took yet another bite of the apple and shivered.

* * *

Aziraphale rushed through the foliage in a panic, ignoring the weeds, twigs, and leaves whipping against his face and ankles.

_Oh no oh no, oh no, please, no!_ This simply could not be happening. Aziraphale skidded to a stop at the foot of the Tree of Knowledge. His heart sank at the two clearly bitten apples discarded in the grass.

He whipped his head around and then he spotted them – Adam and Eve – a short distance away lying in the soft meadow. He padded towards them, hoping that maybe it had been some _other_ creature who had taken bites from the forbidden fruit.

_Oh good lord._ He was too late. They were doing . . . _something._ Rubbing up against each other and making alarming sounds. This was certainly different than the way they’d behaved before. It had to be the work of the Tree’s bounty.

Blushing for reasons unclear, Aziraphale had to look away. He turned and made his way back towards the eastern gate in a daze, flaming sword hanging despondently at his side.

_Well, that was that._

* * *

Aziraphale had been on edge for some time. He wasn’t sure how long _exactly_, since time was still a bit imprecise in measurement, but Eve’s belly was growing round. He knew from the little bit of animal husbandry he was responsible for in the Garden that this meant she was _expecting_. A tiny human was coming – the first one ever to be _born._ It would have been exciting if his mood hadn’t been so gloomy.

Both humans had taken to covering themselves with vines and leaves. It was different. It had required some getting used to, but something about it was rather appealing. It was more colorful and stylish than a simple white gown anyway. At least Aziraphale thought so.

He hadn’t noticed any evidence of that damnable snake since _that_ day. Maybe the demon had gone home after his temptation was accomplished. He couldn’t help but shudder a bit at the thought of _Hell_ being _home_.

Aziraphale wasn’t at all surprised when the decree of the humans’ banishment came down from above, but he still felt sad. And guilty.

* * *

Aziraphale was miserable. He’d given the flaming sword to the humans and then lied about it. Well, he’d _evaded_ about it. Directly to the Almighty. He stood on the Garden wall in a sulk.

And wouldn’t it happen that the demon serpent chose right then to return, slithering up the wall and transforming to stand beside him. Aziraphale tensed, waiting for the demon to taunt, tease or ridicule him for his foolishness, but it never came. Instead, the demon - _Crawly_ – _reassured_ him that he had done the right thing.

Of course, Crawly was mistaken. God herself had just _scolded_ Aziraphale, so he couldn’t have possibly done the right thing. Not at all. He expected some form of punishment would be coming sooner or later. But at the moment, here was this _demon _actually _comforting _him. Smiling and making conversation as though they were _friends_. Aziraphale didn’t even consider any of the other _angels _to be his friends. Not when they barely spoke to him, and only in condescension and derision when they did. He couldn’t help it that he was new. He hadn’t asked for the damned flaming sword they seemed to covet (was coveting even allowed of angels? Aziraphale rarely asked questions, so he couldn’t be sure.)

Aziraphale tried not to dwell on these seemingly dangerous thoughts. But when the Heavens literally opened up to deliver the very first rainfall, he raised his wing to shield the demon. It was just a precaution. The water might have some holiness to it, after all, and Crawly had been _nice_ to him.

* * *

Crawly knew now that the angel was beautiful. He knew that he wanted to touch him. He wanted to touch the angel like Adam and Eve had touched each other. Or however that might work between an angel and a demon. Their bodies were similar enough to the humans, right? He really wanted to know what was beneath Aziraphale’s robe.

Standing up on the wall, he dared to shuffle closer, brushing his shoulder against the angel’s which sent a jolt of heat down his arm.

But the angel didn’t react. He just stared out into the wasteland, looking lost, desolate, and depressed. That just simply wouldn’t do. Who cared about the foolish humans, anyway? They’d made their choice entirely of their own free will as far as he was concerned. No more of this moping. He yearned to see Aziraphale smile. He also yearned to remove his white gown, lay him in the grass, climb on top of him and –

“Should I go after them?” Aziraphale’s anxious voice cut into his thoughts.

“Nah, you already gave them the sword. Surely, that’s enough _meddling_,” the pointed comment bordered on cruel, but Crawly was desperate to keep Aziraphale with him in the Garden for as long as possible.

Unbeknownst to the angel, he’d been keeping an eye on Aziraphale since the day he’d distracted him from apple tree duty. He had seen the angel pace fretfully many times. He had watched him consume _generous_ amounts of various fruits and nuts. No wonder he was plumper than the other angels. Crawly found it fascinating. And delicious. Crawly loved to watch Aziraphale eat. The way the angel brought each morsel to his lips was sinful.

Crawly had hoped, with wicked anticipation and intentions, to catch the angel bathing in one of the many clear streams that flowed through the Garden. But it seemed Aziraphale used miracles to cleanse his body. A terrible shame.

However, on a particularly warm day, Crawly watched Aziraphale wipe sweat from his brow and then ruck up his gown above his knees before taking a seat on a large rock. The creamwhite skin of the angel’s legs was so erotic Crawly thought might burst.

Crawly had even watched Aziraphale nap. Angels _did_ sleep, apparently. The angel would find a mossy knoll or glen of grass, and lie on his side, curling up his knees and resting his head on his arms.

On one occasion when Crawly was feeling particularly devilish, he had crept right up to Aziraphale’s slumbering form. Crawly’s own body thrummed in some sort of unknown expectation. He had carefully examined the angel’s bare feet and calves (blessedly exposed). He ghosted a hand ever so gently along Aziraphale’s wings, drawing back quickly when the feathers twitched.

Crawly had then bent down and _smelled_ the angel’s flaxen hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a shuddering breath, overwhelmed with sensations. He had instantly retreated to the other end of the Garden after that, keeping his distance for several days while his entire body burned hotter than the flames of Hell.

On the wall, standing so closely to Aziraphale, that fire was reignited. “You should probably let the humans work it out for themselves for awhile, shouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re probably right.”

“Should we head back, then?” Crawly tiled his head.

“Head back?”

“Into the Garden, of course. You know . . . just to check up on things now that they’ve left. You can’t very well leave without making sure everything’s in order, can you?”

Aziraphale nodded. The rain was beginning to soak through his white gown. The wet, now sheer fabric clung to the angel’s skin. Crawly was close to combustion.

After what felt like eternity, Crawly had finally urged (_Tempted_?) Aziraphale back into the Garden. The rain had, blessedly, stopped, but the ground was still damp and glistening water droplets slid down the lush, green foliage. Everything was warm and ripe. Crawly casually led the despondent angel towards the Forbidden tree, their feet sinking into the damp earth of the meadow. He reached up and picked an apple, and then turned to Aziraphale with a grin.

“Why don’t you go ahead and try one? See what all this fuss was about?”

Aziraphale snapped out of his stupor. “What?! You can’t be serious. No – NO! Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

Crawly shrugged and took a bite. Aziraphale frowned.

* * *

Aziraphale had no idea what the demon Crawly was playing at. What was the point of messing about in here after everything had already gone to, well, _Hell_?

He turned away from Crawly and shook out his rain-soaked wings, scattering water droplets around him. It didn’t matter if the demon wanted to eat every damned apple in the tree now, but Aziraphale wouldn’t be a part of it. He needed to atone. He needed to do the _right_ thing.

He was just beginning to plan his next move, having decided to follow the humans after all, when Crawly was unexpectedly at his back. The demon made a little _pssst_ sound in his ear, and Aziraphale whirled around in annoyance.

“What is the meaning of mmphh – ”

Crawly’s mouth was against his. Aziraphale gasped, and when he parted his lips, he felt the demon’s tongue push the bite of the apple into his mouth. Aziraphale bit down on instinct and the juice was so, _so_ sweet.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured, closing his eyes and chewing greedily before swallowing it all down. His eyes snapped open. _Oh fuck._ He hadn’t meant to do that. That was the opposite of the _right thing_. But it had been a compulsion. He hadn’t even thought to spit the apple out.

“Oh, you – you rogue! Why did you – ” he paused, licking his lips of the sweetness that still lingered. “Well, that _was_ wonderful,” he said, suddenly yearning for _more_. Surely, it couldn’t hurt _now_. He was already in trouble anyway. “Perhaps another – ?”

Crawly quickly wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s waist and kissed him. _Oh!_ Aziraphale had meant perhaps one more _bite_, of course, but – he kissed back. It was a compulsion as strong (if not stronger) than swallowing the apple had been. He moved his lips hungrily against Crawly’s, placing his palms on the demon’s chest. He’d never felt so eager about _anything_. His body grew warm. It started in the pit of his belly and spread down to his groin, aching with emptiness.

Crawly squeezed him, pressing their bodies together and then began to _writhe_. Aziraphale broke off the kiss with a gasp, breathing heavily. He was particularly _aware_ of where Crawly’s hand was gripping his hip.

“I meant another taste of the apple, my dear,” Aziraphale said softly, tilting his head towards the fruit Crawly still held in his free hand.

“I want another taste of _you_,” Crawly said, tossing the apple aside and bringing his mouth to Aziraphale’s neck.

He licked and nipped at Aziraphale’s throat, dragging his tongue along the angel’s jaw to tease his earlobe. He ran both hands over the folded white wings, gently caressing the feathers between his fingers. Aziraphale shuddered. He was growing rather weak at the knees, and so Crawly urged him to lie down on the damp earth, delivering sweet kisses all the way. Aziraphale stretched out on his back, wings spread full-span beneath him while Crawly hovered above, looking down with hungry yellow eyes. Both breathed heavily.

Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he wanted, but he _wanted_. He spread his thighs on instinct and Crawly answered with his hands rubbing down the angel’s hips, gathering the hem of Aziraphale’s robe, and pushing the fabric up to reveal thick white thighs. Luckily, underwear hadn’t been invented yet, since both were feeling rather impatient.

“Oh!” Crawly said with surprise when he saw between the angel’s legs. Pink folds covered in a snow white fluffy down. He quirked an eyebrow.

Aziraphale flushed. “W-well, it’s what Eve had! And Adam’s seemed more . . . _serpentine_ so I assumed you’d prefer . . . ” he trailed off, ears burning.

“So you _have_ been watching them,” Crawly grinned. The demon was glad.

“Only a little. I _had_ to as . . . part of my official capacity! Now, will you please . . . _get on with it!_” he squirmed, shamelessly keen.

“Of course, Angel.”

Crawly pushed Aziraphale’s robe up above his waist and slid down his body, nipping at his soft belly and the creamy insides of his thighs. And then Crawly _licked_ him. Right between his legs. Aziraphale cried out. His body arched and his wingtips flapped against the grass.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but this certainly wasn’t it. Crawly’s tongue felt _funny_. It _almost_ hurt, _sort of_ tickled, but he thought he might die if the demon stopped.

He dug his fingers into the moist, fertile earth, pulling up fistfuls of turf as a fuzzy heat coiled in his core. His thighs shook. The rising pressure peaked with an explosion of throbbing release accompanied by a cry he barely realized was coming from his own throat. Later, he would swear he saw flowers blooming around them in that moment. Crawly would roll his eyes and blush.

Almost at once, Crawly eagerly shimmied up the angel’s body and Aziraphale vaguely felt a relentless prodding against his thigh from beneath the fabric of the demon’s robe – _oh!_ he couldn’t help but smile. He had been right after all –_ serpentine_, indeed.

Aziraphale squirmed impatiently, wet and waiting and _empty_. And then the demon was hurriedly gathering up his own robe. _Yes, yes, yes, blessed yes._ He knelt between the angel’s thighs and their bodies slotted together so _easily_. Aziraphale basked in the beauty of being filled, of a deep, aching itch being impossibly scratched from the inside.

They moaned into each other’s mouths. _Good Heavens_. No wonder Adam and Eve never seemed to stop. Thrusting, sweating, panting, and then Crawly’s black wings unfurled above them. Looking up through half-lidded, sex-drunk eyes, Aziraphale idly thought the space-dark feathers looked quite like the night sky. And then a flood pleasure swept through them both and Aziraphale saw stars.

* * *

“I told you the apple was good,” Crawly said. They lay in the grass, limbs and wing feathers entwined.

“It was, quite,” Aziraphale agreed, giving the demon a sly glance. He was still thinking about the things the demon had done with his tongue. He thought he might like to give something similar a try next time. _Next time._ Heaven help him.

Crawly risked pressing a chaste kiss to Aziraphale’s mouth and was thrilled when it was returned. Lips were _definitely_ fantastic. Crawly wondered if Aziraphale tasted like God or if the sweet nectar of his tongue (and of his sex, for that matter) were unique to him. It was Heavenly either way. Even better than the apple. By a large margin.

“Why aren’t you angry with me?” Crawly couldn’t help but ask. “You probably should be.”

“I should be,” Aziraphale said. “But I’m not. I’m the one to blame for my mistakes, after all.” He sighed, thinking dangerously. “Maybe they weren’t even mistakes. Maybe they were . . . meant to be.”

They were silent for several moments before Aziraphale continued. “Do you really think we both did the right thing – er, well – the things that we were _meant_ to do?”

“I do,” Crawly said. “I think no matter how pear-shaped things may look at this moment or how much trouble we could end up in, I think everything went the way it was supposed to. Even if we can’t understand it – ineffable, like you said.”

Somewhere, out in the wasteland not too far away, Adam and Eve were similarly embraced. Ineffable, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://hiphopanonymousao3.tumblr.com/)


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